You are Cordially Invited
by 3 Star Jeneral
Summary: Sure, they were both a little drunk, but her glasses of wine and his glasses of scotch, had taken the sharp edge off, made her a little more wet, made him a little harder...


Written for Old School Porn Battle challenge over on AO3. Requested by **adangeli**

 _ **Prompt: "Hey, what are you doing here?" They run into each other at a wedding (at a swanky hotel, naturally) for whom they each only know one half of the couple and no one else at the event. Cue impromptu date... followed by fancy hotel breakfast?"**_

 _ **You are Cordially Invited...**_

It hadn't taken much persuasion for either of them to think that this was the best fucking decision they'd made since joining the Stargate programme, and he mumbled that exact thing, into her thigh as he pulled her underwear down, and spread her legs open. Sure, they were both a little drunk, but her glasses of wine and his glasses of scotch, had taken the sharp edge off, made her a little more wet, made him a little harder.

Her day had started out terribly, turning up to Ruth's wedding dateless and honestly, feeling a bit sorry for herself, and then she'd spotted him at the bar. Him, of all people. 2600 miles from Nevada and 250 miles from Washington DC, in New York City. Jack O Neill, in a charcoal grey suit, the top button of his white shirt undone, his silver hair almost sparkling, looking like he'd just stepped out of GQ magazine. Of course he did. When SG12 had brought home the expanding cube like healing chamber from P5N 441, he had insisted it was tested on him. His lines had gotten a little finer, his back a little less painful and his knees a lot less cranky. He was practically a new man - and he looked it.

He spotted her from across the room, looked confused for several seconds, smiled broadly, then turned and whispered something to the barman who scurried away. Leaning against a high table, he jerked his head as if to beckon her over. He had the same platinum embossed invitation she had tucked into her purse in one hand and a tumbler of amber liquid in the other.

She couldn't quite believe what she was looking at. How was he here? More importantly, why was he here? She had spoken to him only once or twice since her Dad had passed several months previously. She had believed that maybe Jacob's death would be the catalyst they needed, but nothing had come of it, both seemingly hesitant to be the one to kick the proverbial door of the now warehouse sized room down.

"Carter, in all the fancy four star hotels, in all the towns, in all the the cities..." he started, grinning.

"Sir," she began, but he interrupted.

"I think we're ok with Jack here, Carter," he said leaning in and lowering his voice, " _'Sir'_ seems a bit formal at a wedding, don't ya think?"

"Ok..., Jack, " she tested, "what are you doing here?"

"My godson James is getting married today. His dad was an old buddy of mine." He leaned in and said quietly, "I haven't seen the kid in 20 years, not since his dad died, but I thought it was the right thing to do, for Jim. You?"

"Apparently my high school friend is marrying him."

"You're kidding?" He asked

"Not kidding" she replied, "Your godson is my age?"

"Yes, well, as I've mentioned on several occasions, I'm quite a bit older than you, not that you ever listened."

"I listened", she responded, " I just didn't care, I still don't. "

"How's Groom Lake treating you?"

"It's different, but I'm enjoying it, I won't bore you with the details."

"And for that, I thank you." He said, raising his glass to her.

The waiter returned with two glasses of red wine, deposited them in front of Sam, and placed what appeared to be a double scotch in front of Jack.

"Two?"

"Hey, it's a party, and you have some catching up to do."

Having ascertained that neither of them seemed to know anyone other than each other at this shindig, and having drank two glasses of wine in rather quick succession, attending the wedding together seemed like the obvious next step. Neither wanted to spend the day alone with a bunch of strangers asking inappropriate, awkward questions.

They'd stood to leave when the announcement had been made that the wedding would begin shortly, and when Ruth's mom greeted Sam and asked if this was her fiance, Jack interjected immediately with, "Yes, I am. Jack O'Neill, very pleased to meet you." He extended his hand and shook hers warmly, while his other arm encircled Sam's waist.

"Fiance, really?" Sam enquired after Sally had left.

"Would that really be so terrible? Anyway, it seemed easier than ' _no ma'am, they broke up and I'm her former boss, who's always had the hots for her, and who also just happened to be here 2600 miles away from home at the same time for the same wedding'... "_

"Always had the hots for me huh?"

"Yeah, like you haven't thought about me like that in the last nine years. Plus, it means I can hold you extra close later when we dance, without anyone batting an eyelid. See, I'm not just a pretty face, Carter."

She couldn't argue with his logic.

By dinner time, they had progressed from friendly conversation with their fellow table guests, to whispered conversations between just the two of them, and light caresses of hands, of arms.

She had been pleased to discover that he was quite the dancer. He had great rhythm and she laughed as he attempted some kind of robot dance with a crowd of teenage boys in the centre of the dance floor.

By midnight, he'd held her closer than would have been appropriate anywhere else, hummed into her ear and kissed her neck while swaying gently to the bands' version of "Love me Tender"

"Jack", she whispered, her lips grazing his ear as she spoke, "I'm really glad you're here. I'm glad we're here together."

He could have answered, could have said he was glad they were there together too, but instead, he'd taken her by the hand and led her to the elevator, collecting her purse from the table on the way.

The ride to the 5th floor was painfully slow, their fingers intertwined, the unmistakable hum of anticipation hanging in the air. The fact that they hadn't thrown themselves at each other there and then just added to the excitement.

"So, we're really doing this huh?" she said, almost nervously, her fingers tightening around his.

"We're really doing this", he replied, "As long as you want to do this?"

"I want to, I definitely do." She answered quickly.

He nodded as he spoke, then turned his face to look at her and quietly added "Ok then, we're absolutely doing this and you have no idea how many times i'm going to make you come tonight."

Her mouth fell open at his declaration and he smirked. He wasn't joking. The elevator stopped and the doors opened with a ring.

He walked ahead of her, towards his room, their arms almost outstretched between them.

Turning to look back at her, he said, "Oh yes, many, _many_ times - come on..." and quickened his pace towards room 314, at the very end of the corridor.

He held his keycard to the small panel on the door and when the Iight changed to green, pushed the door forward pulling her inside.

"That dress" he said, tossing his jacket on the chair next to him and kicking his shoes off, "has been practically fucking begging me to unzip it all day, turn around."

She grinned, turning slowly to face the wall. He stepped behind her and kissed her neck while slowly dragging the tassled zipper down her back, taking his time with the task at hand. He pulled the straps off her shoulders and it fell to the ground around her feet like a blue puddle.

She turned back to face him and he took in the sight, matching black panties, strapless bra and black sparkling heels. He took a small step towards her, ran his fingers along her jawline but instead of kissing her lips, sank to his knees, running his bare fingertips down her belly and kissed her inner thigh, mumbling "best fucking idea since joining the Stargate programme". He hooked his fingers into the sides of her panties and pulled them down her legs. She was almost bare, save for a small triangular patch of short tight dark blonde curls and the sight made his body clench in all the right places.

She made a move to step out of her heels, but he looked up at her from his kneeling position between her legs and said "No, no, leave _those_ on."

She smiled, and widened her stance some. He ran his hands up the back of her legs to her ass and then back down, resting his fingers behind her knees and inhaled. She was his drug, she was intoxicating. He leaned in and swiped his tongue slowly and deliberately hard over her sex.

She made a sound he'd never heard before, but one he wasn't likely to forget as long as he drew breath. A low guttural noise of pure abandonment. The word "Fuck" escaped her lips. He'd never heard her curse before, it made him proud to think that he had made her abandon all sense of propriety.

He wanted to make her come like this, standing against the back of the bedroom door, wanted her to tangle her fingers into his hair, and hold his head in place while she came against his tongue. In truth, he'd wanted to do that against many doors over the years, but there was always something in the way. She was always _Captain_ , _Major_ or _Lt Colonel_ , him _Colonel_ , _General_ , _'Sir'_. But not now. Now he could move his hands to her bare ass, flick his tongue over her clit, push his fingers inside her and make sure she made that sound over and over.

He could tell she was edging close to oblivion because her fingers tightened painfully in his hair, twisting turning, like the orgasm quickly building inside her. She angled her hips, lifted her leg over his shoulder and held his face to her swollen clit, while repeating his name over and over in a frantic but practiced way.

"Jack, I'm, oh fuck!"

She shattered in front of him, pressed against the door, her body almost folding in on itself. He kept his mouth on her sex, letting her ride out her pleasure, watching her face go through a million emotions in a heartbeat.

When she calmed, he stood, and took her face in his hands.

"You are stunning, and that was so fucking worth the wait" he said, staring into her hooded eyes and kissed her.

Nine years of emotion, of want, of desire, poured into his kiss, and she opened her mouth willingly when his tongue begged entrance. He crowded her, wanting to feel every inch of her skin against his own but his shirt and her bra stood in his way. He reached behind her and deftly undid the clasp, and let it fall to the floor, joining her dress and panties. He unbuttoned his shirt while she held his face in her hands, and kissed him with such passion that it took his breath away.

"Want you inside me" she said, almost desperately against his lips, then swirled her tongue into his mouth and pushed her hips against his. He calculated in his head how long he would have to be separated from her to make it to the bed and decided that it wasn't worth it, so unzipped his pants and shucked both them and his jockey shorts down his legs where he stood. He lifted her leg, hooked it high over his hip, fully opening her up to him, then reached between them and guided the head of his cock to her glistening folds.

He pulled his lips away from hers, rested his nose on the tip of hers and excruciatingly slowly, pushed inside in one long fluid movement. He'd often imagined what her face would look like when he finally pushed his cock so far inside her, that they blurred the lines between where he ended and she began, and when he finally did, her lip trembled and her eyes lost focus.

Carter, he was glad to discover, was a talker, and he liked talkers, loved when a woman told him exactly what she liked, or gave clear instructions on what she wanted. It showed power, and a confident powerful woman was such a turn on.

He thrust hard and the door behind her banged loudly in it's frame. She moaned his name long and low, and he'd never heard it sound like it did in that moment. He thrust again and then a second time and she cried out into the room, her voice barely audible over the sound of the door banging again.

"Oh god Jack, you're so deep," she cried.

Her hands curled around his neck and he palmed her ass, then lifted her up, and still fully seated inside her, walked them towards the bed. Her lips locked on the cords of his neck, laved at his jawline and sucked the salt from the skin under his ear. "I want to be on top," she said into his ear, sucking his earlobe into her mouth and unwinding her legs from around his waist.

"I have zero fucking problem with that request," he replied, as she reached out and pushed him down onto the bed. He dragged himself backwards to the head of the bed, she kicked off her heels and crawled up the bed and between his legs.

She paused as she reached his cock, it twitched as her breath caught the underside. She locked eyes with him and licked from base to tip, then took him into her mouth and sucked hard.  
His hips bucked from the bed, and his hands shot to her hair.

"Oh fuck Sam."

She sucked him into her mouth once more and he threw his head back.

"Sam if you don't stop, this is gonna be over very very soon"

"Can't have that can we?" she replied, and crawled up his body, situated herself over his cock, then sank down slowly until he was buried inside her.

He expected her to rise off him, to bounce on his cock like he'd always pictured, expected her to hold her breasts and twist her nipples to increase sensation, but instead, she rocked her hips forwards and backwards, grinding on his body. He stroked her breasts, pinched her nipples and her head fell back, her speed increasing.

It was the perfect storm, the vision of her above him, head thrown back, her moans of pleasure, and her body clenching and releasing his cock as she ground onto him, her pace becoming frantic.

"Sam, I don't think I can hold on much longer."

And then she did it, opened her eyes, stared at him, reached down to where then were joined and stroked her fingers over her clit. She cried out again, her speed increasing, he grasped her hips and helped her pace remain steady.

"Come for me Sam, oh fuck, look at me."

She nodded, and 30 seconds later she obeyed his order, as she always had, eyes locked on his, his name tumbling from her lips, and then he turned her world on its head.

He kissed her roughly, and buried himself in her, drove into her with all he had left. She was tight and warm and soft under him and he loved her, he really loved her. Yes, this was fucking, it was primal, desperate even, but deep down, underneath it all, he knew how much they loved each other.

"Sam, oh god, Sam," he cried, " I love you, I fucking love you," and then he stilled, his body shaking with his release, his heart bursting with adoration for the woman under his body.

They woke the next morning, limbs tangled around each other, skin sticky and lips red and swollen. Where he feared there might have been an awkward moment or two, there was calm, contentment.

"Good morning," he said quietly, his fingers tracing small patterns on her back, hers drawing shapes on his chest.

"Good morning to you," she said, placing a small kiss over his heart. "What do you want for breakfast? We could order up."

"You, I want more of you for breakfast" he replied devilishly.

"And you call yourself an old man?! You have more energy than half the men I know."

"Yeah, that healing chamber worked wonders"

"So, you love me, huh?" She asked.

"Only for about 8 years, I adored you before then."

He lifted her hand from his chest and said "You know what I think?"

"What's that?"

"I think this hand is distinctly lacking some very expensive sparkling jewellery. What do you say?"

"Jack", she laughed, "you can't be serious?"

"As serious as Teal'c."

"Wow, that _is_ serious!" She replied, laughing. "We've just had our first date, are we not rushing things a bit?"

"Sam, I'm 54 years old, and we've been dating for 9 years, we just didn't know it at the time. We're not tied by chain of command anymore. Why wait any longer? It's time."

Molly noticed the spring in the cranky old General's step when he arrived at his office on Monday morning. She handed him his regular cup of coffee as he passed her desk, and noticed how, when he smiled his thanks to her, he smiled with his whole face. Happiness suited him.

Samantha Carter arrived back at Groom Lake that very same Monday morning with a sparkling addition to the dog tags that hung around her neck, a delicate platinum band with a rather large diamond set into it.

One word was engraved into the inside of the band.

Their word.

 _Always_.

#################################################

 **Betad by the gorgeous Amyj10. All mistakes are my own.**

 **Reviews or comments much appreciated x**


End file.
